A Daddy for Dillon (6 page)

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Authors: Stella Bagwell

BOOK: A Daddy for Dillon
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“Laramie, I’m not used to ranching life. Dillon isn’t the only one who’ll be learning. So I—I’ll try my best to trust you on these things. And I do want him to make friends. Really.”

* * *

When Laramie had decided to come down to the kitchen for coffee and pie, this was the last thing he’d expected to happen. As late as it was, he’d been very surprised to see her walking into the room. And even then he’d expected her to give him the frigid treatment. Instead, she’d apologized and now she was actually touching him and smiling with the first genuine warmth he’d seen in her dark eyes. He didn’t know what he’d done or said to change her attitude, but whatever it was he was relieved. He was also very, very aware of her softness, the sweet scent of her hair and the seductive curve of her lower lip. The feel of her hand was light and teasing, like a warm gentle breeze slipping over his skin. And he wanted to be closer. Oh, so much closer.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Leyla.” His voice sounded husky and intimate, so he cleared his throat before he went on. “Whenever I look at Dillon I see a whole lot of myself. And I want things to be good for him.”

“I hope you truly mean that.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

She turned away from him but not before Laramie caught a bitter sort of resolve in her eyes.

“Dillon’s father said plenty of things he didn’t mean,” she said flatly.

Her words cut into him. It hurt for her to compare him to the bastard who’d deserted her. It also pained him to think what the man’s lies must have done to her.

Laramie dared to lay his hand on the back of her shoulder, and the fact that she didn’t scurry away filled him with a strange sort of joy. Like when a frightened colt suddenly decided to turn and tiptoe back to his outstretched hand. Trust. Yes, he figured earning Leyla’s trust would be a major undertaking.

“Maybe it’s time you forget all of that,” he said softly.

That turned her back around, and she looked at him with sheer disbelief. “So I can let another man make a fool of me? Oh, no. I won’t ever forget.”

“The way I see it, you let Dillon’s father ruin a part of your life. But there’s no sense in letting him ruin the rest of it.”

Doubt flickered in her eyes. “Who says I’m letting him ruin anything?”

His hand left her shoulder and slid slowly up the side of her neck until his palm was cradling her jaw. “I do. I see it in your eyes. On your lips. They should be soft and sweet. Instead they’re hard and sour.”

“And I suppose you think you could make me forget—and soften me up.”

Her voice had dropped to a breathy whisper and the sensual sound skittered over his skin like tempting fingertips. He shouldn’t be this close to Leyla. And he especially shouldn’t be touching her. But it had been a long time since he’d wanted to kiss a woman, to feel her soft curves yielding against him. And like it or not, Leyla touched him in a way that went beyond the physical. He wanted to see past her pretty face and straight to her heart.

“I wouldn’t know,” he said in a low voice. “Until I tried.”

The tight line of her lips fell open and Laramie didn’t stop to think. His head swooped, and like a starved man, he fastened his lips over hers.

The initial contact caused her to flinch, but she didn’t jerk away, and he was encouraged enough to deepen the pressure of his lips.

Soft, sweet and deliciously warm. The sensations rushed through Laramie like a sudden burst of wind, sweeping away his ability to think about anything except drawing her closer and kissing her until he was completely filled with her.

Just as he was slipping his arms around her waist, the phone he’d left lying on the table began to ring. Laramie desperately wanted to ignore the signal, but Leyla was already pulling away from him.

“You’d better get that,” she said in a choked voice, then turned and ran from the room.

Ignoring the phone, Laramie trotted after her. At the doorway leading into her private living quarters, he caught up to her and as his hand closed around her upper arm, she whirled back to him.

“Forget the phone,” he muttered. “I want to talk to you first.”

With her gaze focused rigidly away from him, she said, “There’s nothing to talk about. I let you push me into behaving recklessly!” Her gaze swept up to his face and this time there was a fierceness in the dark brown depths. “I won’t let that happen again!”

“Kissing me makes you reckless, huh? Then what does it make me? A fool for thinking you might actually be a woman with a woman’s feelings?”

Clearly furious, she jerked away from his grasp and slammed the door in his face.

Laramie instantly raised his hand to pound on the wooden partition, but he let it drop. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Dillon. The boy didn’t need to see his mother upset.

With a rueful sigh, he turned away from the door and started back to the kitchen. He’d already done and said far too much tonight. And the phone call was probably from someone who needed him to deal with something. Being the manager of this huge ranch always kept him in demand. But just for once Laramie would like to think he was needed by a woman. Especially a woman with long black hair and dark wounded eyes.

* * *

When Leyla entered the kitchen early the next morning, she found a note from Laramie fastened to the refrigerator. He’d had to leave the house early so there was no need to prepare his breakfast, but he did plan to be back for supper.

Leyla didn’t know it was possible to feel disappointment and relief at the same time, but as she crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash, the conflicting emotions did a good job of confusing her. But then so had his kiss last night. The touch of his lips had swept her away and filled her with longing. She’d wanted it to go on forever, but somehow, some way, sanity had prevailed and given her enough strength to pull away from him. But what about the next time? How could she possibly resist the man?

Trying to shove away her worrisome thoughts, she made coffee, then prepared a pot of oatmeal for Dillon and herself. The child would be up soon and no doubt would race here to the kitchen to see if Laramie was around.

Last night, before he’d gone to sleep, he plied her with questions about the man. The last one being did he have a little boy, too.

Even now the question dug at her in places she’d believed she’d shut the door on long ago. It was still hard for her to fathom the idea that Laramie’s mother had left her newborn. Had the woman meant to come back but for some reason couldn’t? If she wasn’t dead, why had she left her son behind to be raised by someone who’d not even been a relative?

Laramie had said that when he looked at Dillon he saw a bit of himself. That had touched her. She’d not expected anything like that from the rancher. In fact, she’d never expected him to take any sort of notice of her or Dillon. But already he’d kissed her senseless and promised to be a friend to Dillon. Oh, God, where was it all going to end? When Reena came back and she and Dillon were forced to leave, that’s where it would end, she thought dismally.

You can always bring him back for visits.

Visits were not what she and Dillon needed. They needed a home they could call theirs, a place that no one could take away from them. And she needed to get on with her education to make those dreams come true. And later, maybe years later, she’d be in a stable position where she could allow a man to come into their lives.

* * *

After breakfast, Dillon was sitting on the floor playing with a set of farm animals while Leyla finished the last of her coffee when the phone on the breakfast bar rang.

When Sassy was around, Leyla always let her take the calls, but the other woman hadn’t yet arrived to work, so she hurried over to the bar and picked up the receiver.

“Chaparral ranch,” she answered.

“Leyla, it’s Reena. I was just calling to make sure everything is going okay.”

“Everything is fine.” Except that the sexy ranch foreman had gotten under her skin, Leyla thought with a measure of frustration.

“Good. I also forgot to tell you that whenever you’re in town shopping for the ranch, you’re perfectly welcome to use the credit card for things you might need for yourself.”

Leyla couldn’t imagine charging any sort of personal expense to the ranch. She was fiercely independent and made it a rule to never ask for anything more than her salary. “I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage like that.”

Reena chuckled. “Leyla, I wasn’t suggesting you go out and buy diamonds or mink. I’m talking about basic necessities that a woman needs. Those are considered part of your working expenses.”

“Thank you, Reena, but I hardly need a thing. This place is a mansion. Especially after living in my aunt’s house on the res. The roof leaks when it rains or the snow starts to melt and the water pipes only work in the bathroom. So you see, I have more than plenty.”

Reena paused for a moment, and Leyla figured the description of her aunt’s house had taken the other woman aback.

After a moment, she said, “I’m glad you got the chance to enjoy the Chaparral, Leyla. And I want you to feel at home. Laramie is very special to me. And I know you’ll take extra good care of him.”

Leyla wondered what the cook would think if she knew exactly how good she’d taken care of Laramie last night. Just the memory of his hard lips rocking over hers was enough to send a shock of heat through her body. And she was still asking herself why she’d allowed the kiss to happen.

“Don’t worry, Reena. I promise to take care of your rooms and not let Dillon break anything. And Laramie doesn’t seem picky about what he eats. I don’t think I’ll have any problems with him.” At least not with the cooking part of her job, she thought. “Uh, Reena, this morning when I came down to the kitchen he was already gone. That was five o’clock. Do I need to make breakfast earlier?”

Reena chuckled. “Don’t worry about getting up with the roosters. Some mornings Laramie has to be out very early. He’ll find something for himself or eat at the bunkhouse.”

Leyla’s thoughts rolled back two nights ago when she’d met him for the very first time. He’d looked saddle-weary. And she suspected that while she was here on the ranch, she would see him in that condition more often than not. He worked very hard. Just not for himself. That didn’t make sense to her. The Cantrells trusted him to run their family business. That meant he was top-notch at his job. A man with that much talent could be using it on a ranch of his own. But maybe Laramie didn’t want a home of his own, she thought. No more than he appeared to want a family.

Trying to push the nagging thoughts of Laramie away, she asked, “How are things going for you at Apache Wells?”

“The Chaparral has been my home for forty years, so it feels very strange to be away from it,” Reena admitted. “But Abe is a sweetheart, so I can hardly complain.”

A sweetheart? That seemed like an odd term for the cook to be using for her employer. “Sassy told me the man is a crotchety old thing.”

Reena laughed and Leyla could detect a sense of deep affection in the sound. Maybe the term “sweetheart” wasn’t so odd after all, she thought.

The cook said, “Sassy is too young to appreciate a man like Abe. As far as that goes, Sassy wouldn’t know a good man if one walked right under her nose.”

“She’s very sweet, though,” Leyla defended the maid.

“And so are you,” Reena said kindly.

The two women talked for a brief moment more and then Reena ended the call. As Leyla hung up the phone, she wondered if the cook knew anything about Laramie’s parents and what might have happened to them.

Stop it, Leyla! Forget that the man grew up without his real parents. Forget the way he looked at you, touched you. And most of all push that kiss of his from your mind.

* * *

When Laramie trudged his way through the atrium and into the kitchen that night, it was well past ten. Except for a night-light burning over the cabinet counter, the room was dark and empty. At this hour, he’d not expected Leyla to be up and waiting, but he’d found himself hoping she would be. In fact, he’d spent the whole damned day thinking about the woman and that kiss. And that irritated the heck out of him. With one problem after another popping up on the ranch, his mind needed to be on work, not a lovely little woman with sweet-tasting lips.

He scrubbed his hands at the sink, then pulled out the warming drawer at the bottom of the gas range. Inside he found a plate of smothered meat, a bowl of seasoned potatoes and another with candied carrots.

He ate the meal quickly, then rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. He planned to shower and go straight to bed, so he dismissed the idea of having coffee and dessert and left the kitchen to go upstairs to his room.

On the way through the dark, he was passing the door to Leyla’s living quarters when it suddenly swung open, nearly hitting him in the face.

“Oh, hell!”

“Laramie!”

Their words came out at the same time and it was obvious to Laramie that she’d not had any idea that he was in the house, much less that her door was about to slam him in the nose. For a second night in a row.

“I didn’t know you were back,” she said with concern. “Did I hit you with the door?”

She’d not seemed too worried about slamming him in the face last night, he thought wryly. “No. You just startled me, that’s all.”

Even though the small hallway was illuminated dimly, Laramie could see she was wearing a robe made of something soft and blue. It was tied at the waist and the V of the neck dipped low to a spot between her breasts. Her long hair had been loosened from its knot and now lay like a shiny piece of satin upon her shoulders. She looked more than pretty, he decided—she looked downright sexy.

“I thought I’d check the kitchen to see if you’d eaten so that I could put away the dishes.”

“No need for you to bother. I’ve already put everything away.”

Her lips pursed with disapproval. “That’s not good. That’s my job.”

“It was nothing,” he assured her. “Thanks for the supper.”

“That’s why I’m here. Just to prepare your meals.”

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